Dear Diary,
This morning my motherinlaw, Margaret, fixed me with a sharp stare. Listen, Evelyn, Im not looking for a quarrel, she said, squinting. Youre the one making a fuss. Live peacefully in our flat no one here is going to throw you out. And stop bullying my son. If I have to, I can pull the rug from under both of you. Where would you go with the child then? Lets try to get along, dear? Her words hung heavy, like a storm cloud over my breakfast tea.
***
I was hunched over my computer at the office, eyes glued to the screen, when a bouquet of fresh roses appeared on my desk. I looked up to see Leon, the newest member of our department, blushing as he handed them to me.
This is for you, Evelyn, he murmured, cheeks pink.
Thank you, but you didnt have to, I replied, keeping my tone even.
Leon had started to drop little hints of interest lately bringing coffee, slipping compliments. I brushed them aside, pretending not to notice. He wasnt exactly my type; a quiet, bookish sort, more comfortable with spreadsheets than flirtation.
During lunch, my colleague Megan drifted over.
Evelyn, why are you turning down Leon? He seems decent, she said.
Its not my cup of tea, I sighed. Hes too calm, I guess.
Calm is reliable, Megan chuckled. You dont find many blokes like that these days. And he even has his own flat, which isnt something everyone his age can brag about.
A flat, you say? I mused. Owning a place and earning a decent wage are both big tickboxes when youre thinking about a life partner.
Later that evening, I stayed late to finish a crucial report. As I packed up, Leon appeared in the doorway.
Evelyn, may I walk you to the cab? he offered.
Thanks, Leon, but Ive called a taxi, I said.
Just to the cab, then, he persisted.
On the short walk, he chatted about his hobbies, his job, his future plans. Then, out of the blue, he asked me out on a date. I hesitated, but eventually agreed, thinking it would give me a better chance to size him up especially after Megans flat remark.
***
Our first date was at a cosy little café. Leon turned out to be a surprisingly engaging conversationalist.
Where do you live? I asked, trying not to sound too eager.
I have my own flat, he replied proudly. My parents helped me buy it when I finished university.
Lovely, I said sincerely.
After a few more meetings, I began to notice qualities in Leon Id missed before his attentiveness, reliability, honesty. He won over my parents and friends alike.
One afternoon I asked, Leon, what are your dreams?
I dream of a family, he said, eyes bright. A home of our own, warm and welcoming.
A home sounds wonderful, I said. But first we need a proper flat.
We already have one, he grinned. So we can start thinking about the house.
A year later we were married in a modest yet heartfelt ceremony. We moved into Leons flat, and I felt a quiet joy settling over me Id married a good man, and we had a roof of our own.
Two years on, our son James was born. He was a bundle of energy, and Leon proved to be a devoted, loving father. Life felt snug as a bug in a rug, and I never once doubted my choice.
One night, while putting James to sleep, I broached the subject of a second child.
Leon, I think its time we think about having another, I said, almost casual.
Another? he asked, surprised. Why? James is still little.
Id love a daughter, I admitted. We have the money, the flat why not sell this place, buy something bigger?
Money isnt the issue, Leon agreed. But the flat?
What about the flat? I asked, puzzled.
You see, he began hesitantly, the flat isnt really mine.
My heart dropped. What do you mean? You said your parents helped you purchase it!
Yes, they helped. But its registered in my fathers name.
My fathers name? I repeated, disbelief rising.
Exactly, he whispered, eyes downcast. They wanted a safety net in case of divorce, so the deed is in his name.
I felt my legs give way. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to process the revelation.
Youve been lying to me all this time? I choked, tears threatening. Why?
I didnt lie, Leon said, voice shaking. I just left things unsaid. My parents asked me not to mention it, fearing youd marry me for the flat. I now know you love me, not the property.
What do we do now? I asked, looking into his watery eyes. How do we move forward?
We love each other, we have James. My parents wont take the flat away from us. Well keep living as we are.
What if they decide they need it? I protested. Or give it to my sister? How can you be so calm?
Youre being dramatic, Leon snapped. Theyll never do that.
Where did you get that certainty? I pressed.
Evelyn, please calm down, he tried to hug me. Everything will be alright.
No, Leon. Nothing will be alright. You hid the truth. You lied to me!
The night ended in a heated argument. I refused to let him into our bedroom; he slept on the couch instead.
***
Three days passed without a word between us. Leon went to work, I cooked his meals, ironed his shirts, all in a hushed routine. He tried repeatedly to draw me into conversation, but I ignored him, as if he were a ghost. I even barred him from James; whenever he tried to pick up the boy, I whisked the child away to another room.
I clung to the hope that one day Leon would return from work with good news that his parents had finally transferred the flat into his name. Then we could sell the twobedroom flat, buy a threebedroom house, perhaps even a cottage on the outskirts.
But Leon brought no such tidings. My motherinlaw, Margaret, eventually showed up unannounced while Leon was at the office.
Whats going on here? she asked, eyes sharp. Your son seems off, and you look worried. Tell me, Evelyn, whats the trouble?
Nothing, Margaret, I forced, everythings fine. I dont know why Leons looking so gloomy.
Youre lying, she said, leaning in. Why are you after a flat that isnt yours? You live here peacefully; we have no intention of kicking you, Leon, or our grandson out. Whats wrong with you, meddling over a property?
I clenched my fists, striving for calm. Im not trying to take your flat, Margaret. Leon told me the flat belongs to him, but in reality its your husbands property. Im worried about my future. If something happens, we cant do anything with that flat. I want a bigger place for two children; the twobedroom flat is cramped. Weve saved some money, but not enough for a threebedroom. If we sold this flat, we could afford a bigger home. I dont want to beg you for permission to sell. Were a family, we have a child, so I believe we have the right to decide where we live.
Margarets smile turned cold. Thats why I protected my son. Do you think Im naive? I see right through you, Evelyn. Youre luring my modest programmer into your life because you think Ill be generous? Dont pretend you married Leon for love. I wont let that flat be sold, no matter what. It stays in my husbands name. If you think you can divorce and split the assets, youre dreaming. Save your money, contribute to the household budget, and maybe youll earn some say over it. Im done with this. Live quietly, or Ill make your son sign the papers for a divorce. I have the leverage.
She turned and left. I exhaled heavily, the weight of the room pressing down. I went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, resigning myself to the situation. My husband earns well enough; well save for a bigger place ourselves. It may take time, but Ill push him, motivate him. Well eventually aff
End of entry.
